Secret and Strange
by Windswift
Summary: It has come to Koenma's attention that Kurama is sadly lacking in the guardian angel department. Unfortunately, only one soul will volunteer for the job...


Disclaimer: YuYu Hakusho belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi

Once again, a Karasu vs. the Afterlife one-shot. Want to see more potential scenarios of how Karasu plans to spend the rest of eternity? Then read _The Heavenly Executioner_, _Onegaishimasu_, or _Over Tea_.

Title comes from the song Angel of Music from Phantom of the Opera. The whole phrase is "secret and strange angel."

_**Secret and Strange**_

The little sticky note lay in the cleared area on his desk, inspiring horror in all its innocuous yellow glory. Maybe if he moved that pile of papers on top of it… he could deny having ever seen it…

"Lord Koenma!"

He slammed the stack down quickly, folding his hands on top and protesting automatically, "I didn't do it!"

Botan sighed. "Did you even look at that message?"

"Message? What message?" He feigned innocence in the way only a toddler could pull off. Absently straightening his various piles, he sat and proceeded to ignore her protests.

She curled her hands in her bangs and tugged in utter frustration. Aggravating little… what if that was important! Content that he had won, Koenma relaxed in his chair and pulled out his stamp and ink pad, pretending to contemplate his work. Botan crept closer, sneakily reaching out a hand—and shoved the papers into his lap, victoriously snatching up the note before dangling it out of his grasp.

"It's… about Kurama," she murmured, catching his attention.

Koenma huffed, his fingers just centimeters short and straining to reach. "Well, what's it say?"

Briskly, the ferry girl folded up the post-it and tucked it into her obi. "_You_," she reminded him, "didn't want to see it in the first place." And with that, she promptly walked out.

So he opted for a course of action at which he was very skilled.

Screwing up his face into a ferocious pout, he sulked. He crossed his arms and fidgeted, scooting lower and lower in the chair until he could no longer see over the top of the desk and his toes nearly brushed the floor. His teeth ominously ground against the pacifier. With an air of self-righteous injury, he slid the rest of the way to the floor and picked up his papers.

He had nearly gotten to the point of creating a permanent dent in his desk from his furious stamping when Botan returned.

Oblivious to the tantrum she had spawned, or else simply ignoring it, she sat against his desk where he could not see unless he leaned very far forward, and silently flipped through the pages of the file.

Koenma sustained his sulk.

"Oh-h-h… You know, that really makes a lot of sense now!" Botan exclaimed.

The yellow sticky note fluttered to rest in the circular depression on the desk, and Koenma instinctively banged his stamp down. Belatedly he lifted it up and peeled the paper off the seal.

"Ah…" the female reaper sweated a little, "isn't it rather hard to read now?" Koenma's head thumped against the dented surface as it if were a magnet for all things circular. "Well… your father wanted us to check Kurama's file, because he thought something must be wrong for Kurama to have so many accidents and near-death experiences."

A muffled grunt indicated that he understood and Botan should continue.

"I checked, like the note said. Apparently Kurama really screwed things up… since we hadn't expected Minamino Shuuichi to be born, we didn't allot his soul a guardian angel. So Kurama hasn't got one."

A few more noises emanated from the desk top. She winced slightly. "I'm sure you don't hate foxes in general nearly that much."

"Where does my father expect us to find someone to fill that position!" Koenma wailed.

With all the promptness of a deus ex machina, the door opened. "I'll do it."

The junior ruler of Hell's forehead introduced itself to the desk once again, and Botan nearly fell over in shock. She slowly turned to Koenma and asked hopefully, "We're really not that desperate, are we?"

"Someone else will volunteer," he replied confidently.

"No," their guest corrected with equal smug conviction, smirking behind a silver mask, "they won't."

* * *

He whipped around for the tenth time that day, hand subconsciously reaching for his hair as he glanced around. No… no matter how much he scrutinized, he could not find anyone. But that did not stop the hairs from prickling along the back of his neck in anxiety. Kurama simply could not shake that eerie feeling that he was being watched…

Striding behind him invisibly, in all his self-appointed angelic glory, Karasu could not stop smirking.

**…****  
Owari  
…**

_-Windswift_


End file.
